Little Drummer Boy
by Datenshi Aoi
Summary: Life through the eyes of one Arisato Minato. Takes place before and during the events of Persona 3. Rated T for the mildest of swearing, just to be safe.


Little Drummer Boy

* * *

When you're young, you think you're invincible.

It goes without saying that your body is far more intelligent than you at that stage in your life.

It recognizes when you're in a situation that potentially could kill you. It goes into the fight-or-flight mode, your heartbeat picks up, the adrenaline starts pumping, etc. That sensation, the rush, is how some people define "really living." (The other definition involves drugs, alcohol, being whacked-out-of –your-gourd, and often results in a significantly shorter life).

So what happens when both you and your body are convinced that you can't die? The emotions are still there, but you just don't feel them as strongly as everyone else. You're alive, but not living, if that makes any sense.

Or at least that's the only reason Minato can come up with for why he is the way he is. For whatever reason, he lacks any sense of danger, let alone any recognition of his mortality.

Ever since that night on the bridge when he and his parents were heading to a midnight-showing of some movie he doesn't remember.

It's not like he ever got to see it.

All he can remember from that night is an explosion, a girl, and a scary monster (which everyone assures him does not exist). Oh, and his parents' dead bodies.

Reportedly, he was found miraculously unharmed, if unconscious. Maybe that's when it all started. He woke up evaluating everyone and everything the same way.

_I'm going to die before I'm thirty. But not at your hands._

Some people, after they've accepted that they're not going to get to die of old age, try out new things, to be adventurous and live life to the fullest. In young Minato's case, he was struck by the futility of it all. What was the point of making friends or buying stuff, when you had so little time to be with them and couldn't take any of it with you?

His aunt's family put up with him for a while, and to their credit, tried to give him a normal lifestyle and make him feel welcome. But Minato felt anything but normal. He didn't want to make friends, or go out with the other children. They'd take him to watch movies, but it was like he didn't see anything. He'd eat food, but not really taste it. School was out of the question. Eventually, the family concluded that it was too troublesome (and a little weird) to take care of someone who didn't do anything. "It's like watching someone who's just going through the bare motions of living," his aunt said. Preparations were made for another family to take him in.

It occurred to Minato that if he wanted to at least have an untroubled life, he needed to meet society's expectations. By the time he arrived at the next family's house, he resolved to do everything he was supposed to do. Children are expected to strive for academic excellence, so he studied. Kids are supposed to be physically active, so he exercised. Kids are supposed to have hobbies and interests, so he played computer games and listened to music.

Things came easily to Minato. Sports, academics, fighting (as both he and a small group of bullies discovered one afternoon), and charming people. Supposedly, when everything comes easily to someone, they are often bored by all of it. If that fat American, whosis-Dr. Phil, is to be believed, than this is why rich kids end up doing bad things. Minato supposed it was a mixed blessing he wasn't rich and that misbehaving was just as unappealing as everything else.

This worked for a while, but eventually people noticed that something was off. The way he didn't laugh, his empty room, how he never suggested an activity, or how he never talked about himself. "There's something wrong with you," they would say, after which he soon found himself being passed onto the next relative's home.

If he couldn't behave in such a way to convince people he was normal, then the next best thing would be to minimize the impact he had on them. Minato would either study by himself in his room or go to the malls and just watch people. Sometimes girls would approach him to hang out, and if he struck them as a little weird, it didn't matter because they'd probably never see him again. He got good at listening to people and telling them what they wanted to hear. It wasn't as if he had any opinions of his own to offer up anyway. Strangers didn't scare Minato. It was a strange side affect of having a vague yet definite impression of his coming death. As certain he was of his early passing, he was just as certain he wasn't going to die a moment sooner.

* * *

The reason he was transferred to Gekkoukan was because some counselor thought he might open up if he were to see familiar old sights. That, and his latest host family had enough of the strangeness and he had run out of families to be shuffled off to. It wasn't a difficult move either. Even after all the years, Minato still didn't have a lot of personal items.

And everything changed.

It was as if something, some vital part of him had been sleeping for all those years since the accident and was finally waking up. Also, damned if his death-day didn't feel like it was given a massive push forward.

_I'm surprised I'm actually disappointed by that. How…normal._

Minato blamed the pointy-nosed guy and the creepy kid with the prison-stripe pajamas. Might as well blame the weird-but-very-attractive assistant while he was at it.

* * *

_Whoever said opposites attract was a filthy, filthy liar._

Every person he's ever met was looking for someone just like themselves, and Minato was nothing if not versatile. He put chameleons to shame, not just mimicking but actually becoming a different person.

_Happy to oblige, even though it leaves me with a temporary identity crisis. _

He will never speak of what equipping Mara does to him.

He's not exactly sure why it is in the nature of his powers to become more powerful the better a friend he is, but so be it. It's practically a license to date as many girls as he can in his remaining time.

Have to be careful not to be caught though. "I'm doing it to save the world," probably wouldn't fly as an excuse.

* * *

It surprises him how many girls (and guys, for that matter), he's managed to befriend so deeply.

If that makes him seem like a cheater, so be it. It's not that he was playing with them, or stopped loving them, just that he loves them all, and if he's going to protect them from the danger of Nyx, he was going to have to love a lot more.

_There's plenty of Minato for everyone, ladies. _

He doesn't think the girls, say Chihiro, would appreciate the argument that "the proof of my love for you is this prism-shaped-stone-with-the-picture-of-the-naked-lady-on-it-Persona I can summon." Norn or Cybelle might go over better.

Or not.

It was odd how it worked. At first, he was getting to know people in order to increase his powers. But as he got to know them better, the more he wanted to become powerful to protect them. Weird spiral of causality.

Bebe still creeps him out.

He hopes the girls never find out about each other, not counting Elizabeth who is remarkably understanding. He imagines it's a bit like those people who have multiple lives, and multiple families, except he's only got the one life and is just really good at scheduling.

* * *

Despite being out to kill all the Shadows, Minato doesn't hate them. In fact, they're responsible for some of his very favorite memories. Sure, walking Koromaru is nice, but Yukari wearing nothing but a towel?

_Niiice._

The surveillance footage held a special place in his heart. Right next to the gifts he got from all the friends he made. And the hot springs. He's still curious about what a Mitsuru-style-execution entails, and what Akihiko did to deserve one. But not curious enough to actually let himself get caught.

* * *

Minato has a sneaking suspicion that the reason his relationships progressed so quickly and that people's lives took such drastic changes was because on some level, they could sense the Death within him. Being near him made them confront the question: "if you were to die tomorrow, would you be satisfied with what you've done with your life?" Most of the time, the answer was no. A lot of people moved away. Girls tended to blush when their eyes met his.

* * *

Contrary to what Ryoji said, the coming-Armageddon is not his fault. His and Minato's return home only sped up the process. The areas afflicted with the Dark Hour would have continued to spread, until it reached him, wherever he was. At least in this way, he got to make the friends he never saw the point in having but was now deathly afraid of losing.

* * *

_Oh Ryoji, you've gone and gotten ugly. How are you going to hit on girls now?_

It's an odd feeling fighting someone who not only doesn't hold it against you, but is in fact on your side and waxes morbid/philosophical as he's being blasted to kingdom-come.

* * *

He always known he was going to die. If in doing so, he could save the people he's come to care about, then that's just fine with him.

"_But I have promises to keep. And miles to go before I sleep." Thank you, Jack Frost._

_I mean Robert._

_Dammit._

* * *

After the battle with Nyx, everyone really did forget about Dark Hour and everything related to it. He's a little surprised that the relationships between the others regressed to what they were before, but that they all seemed to remember their interactions with him. He's a little curious as to how their minds filled in the blanks, but he guesses it's not important. Just like Chidori forgot about them but still had an impression left on her, he assumes it's probably the same. The girls still turn red when they talk to him, he's gotten a few letters, and one teacher steadfastly refuses to look in his direction. _She's surprisingly cute when she's flustered_

Now he's staring at the sky, but his eyes are refusing to stay open. In retrospect, it was a mistake to rest his head in Aigis' lap, which is remarkably soft and comfortable for something made from alloy metals.

_I hear footsteps._

Minato smiles.

* * *

Author's notes:

This ficlet has been bouncing around in my head entirely too long, and it needs out. The title comes from my initial and forever-lasting-even-if-incorrect impression of the Christmas carol with the same name. Between the boy being poor (no gifts), the temperature being so cold (it's December), and the sad and vaguely funereal instrumentals, I've always felt the boy was marching off towards his death and that he knew it (lyrics be damned). Which fits nicely with my impression of Minato, especially during my second play-through of Persona 3.

May 28, 2010: Re-uploaded because went and got rid of my page breaks.

Please R&R. Feedback is always appreciated.


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